


Rainbows

by Switchback



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: At Least It's Not Raining, Cait's Foul Language, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship, Gen, More Fluff Than a Pre-War Stuffed Teddy Bear, Nick's Sweet Heart, Nora and Nick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 21:05:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6873208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Switchback/pseuds/Switchback
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An innocent question by a not so innocent Cait suddenly finds two totally different companions growing to be the most unlikely of friends.</p><p>A (possible) budding father and daughter friendship series between Cait and Nick Valentine. With some Nick and Nora thrown in. Because I'm a complete sucker for the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainbows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfphantoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfphantoms/gifts).



> For the most wondrous, beautiful, and most talented WolfPhantoms, who is also in charge of kicking my arse in gear when I'm too tired, lazy, or simply outright procrastinating to write. Thank you for all your wisdom and guidance and not berating me for taking a short break from my other life work to give myself another creative outlet elsewhere.

“Stupid fucking tin can man!” Cait hissed, booting a stray Pork n' Beans can that sat by the curbside for good measure. Another bout of laughter rang out at her back with the clatter of battered can metal and she prickled, resisting the urge to shout back at Preston and MacCready to most kindly, 'shut the fuck up.' She could still hear the hydraulic hiss and clunk of Danse's power armour even as she stormed off to the back of one of the dilapidated houses, the man continuing his mocking jibes and stinging barbs to his two amused compatriots sharing his ramshackle, makeshift bar.

Swiftly turning the corner, Cait stomped her way past Nora's old pre-war home, (or at least, that's how the rumours went,) and continued on to one of the empty backyards across the street with the seething precision of a nuclear missile. A lowly whine faltered her step as she passed by a stray porch, its occupant concealed underneath within a battered dog house. She didn't see him at first given the dark and didn't need to see him to recognise it was Dogmeat.

“Leave me alone, ya dumb mutt,” she muttered, though the vehemence in her words was weakened by the glimmer of watery eyes aimed her way from the penumbra. Continuing towards the entrance to Sanctuary Hills, she strode up one of the slight inclinations that gave sight to the low flowing river before, coming to a stand still, her legs gave out from under her and she dropped heavily to the ground. She stared at the silhouette of the Red Rocket Truck Stop that was just discernable against the darkness, its long, curved frame outlined by a series of stars dotted scarcely across the night sky.

Her mind was suddenly assaulted with a fresh barrage of Danse's prior comments and she ground her teeth like a sore Deathclaw. Snatching the nearest thing she could find, (which happened to be a stray light fixture from one of the nearby homes,) she tossed it towards a nearby wall with the arm of an old Boston pitcher. The resounding shatter pierced the stillness and echoed sharp on the wind, but did little to calm her fury. She pulled her knees to her chest, a rare and secret habit she undertook when she was hurt, and sank her chin to rest on her kneecaps.

Suddenly, a low grumble emanated from around the wall.

“And what did that poor building ever do ta you?”

Startled, Cait swiftly dropped her stance to catch Nick's yellow eyes looming from the darkness. Though he was some feet away, she could easily discern the movement and focus of his gaze highlighted as it was by an unnatural aureolin. “I think it's gone through enough as it is,” he muttered, grasping at something within the frayed depths of his trench coat pockets.

“No one asked you, Valentine. Now, fuck off.”

“You always did have a way with words, Cait,” Nick replied, not missing a single beat. Despite her clear hostility he continued his approach anyway, and it was then she could see the cigarette box he'd pulled from his person.

“If yer lookin' fer a fight, I can _gladly_ give you a run fer ya money,” Cait spat, tossing her head and her auburn bangs away from her gaze along with it.

“Interestin' offer, but I'm a little short on caps,” Nick remarked, pulling a stray cancer stick as Nora called them from the battered package and raising it to perch between his lips. Cait fist clumps of dead grass and brittle branch scatterings beneath her, the loose debris cracking audibly between her fingers as her patience snapped along with the twigs.

“I've already had enough shit from one tin can, I don't need another!”

Nick stopped dead with a flicker of cobalt yellow eyes, steel fingers frozen in the middle of striking a match as if someone had put him into standby mode. Cait immediately wished she'd held her tongue.

An awkward silence briefly took hold before it was interrupted with a pop, spark, and fizzle. A secondary glow joined Nick's eyes as he continued to light the end of his cigarette. Cait turned away, positively simmering in rage despite the shiver of night's chill that ran over her skin. She tried to focus on anything but the ragged and rundown synth standing beside her.

Except he was no longer standing, but now lowering himself to sit by her side with an audible crumple of stitched fabric. Cait rose a thick brow and bit the inside of her cheek, about to physically show the robot where he could kindly go, when Nick suddenly began brushing dead grass and branches together into a pile in front of them.

“What the hell are ya doing, Valentine? Building a sand castle? This isn't the fucking beach, if you didn't notice.”

Cobalt yellow flickered to meet forest green. “I'm building a fire, _'if ya didn't notice.'_ ”

Cait was about to respond with an acerbic retort, when she was interrupted by a soft gravel that belied a metallic throat.

“Yer lookin' pretty cold there, doll.”

_'Doll?'_

Cait must have been openly gaping because the corners of his lips quirked into a small smile. The old synth sat back for a moment, pausing just long enough to take a long drag from his cigarette, before he pulled another match from the apparent void that was his trench coat pockets. Striking it roughly against his human hand with a slim, metallic digit, they both watched it flare to life before he tossed the matchstick into the pile of debris by their feet.

Taking another drag of tobacco, Cait watched the smoke curl and rise with its newfound brethren as the pile of tinder began to crackle and burn. They sat in silence, the only sounds between them the occasional far cry of Brahmin from Abernathy Farm or series of stray gunshots from somewhere long across the wastes.

The sounds of the Commonwealth.

Finally, Nick murmured, “... You wanna talk about it?”

_'Is this guy for fuckin' real?'_

“What is this, the fuckin' boy scouts where we all get to sit around a campfire and talk about our fuckin' _feelings_?”

Nick just shrugged further into his jacket and Cait shook with another bout of rage – or cold, she wasn't sure.

“Don't let 'im get to ya.”

Cait's anger suddenly turned from roiling heat to bubbling simmer. “Yer one of tha strongest folk Nora's got 'round here. Don't let no one tell ya otherwise.” Nick flicked some stray ash from his cigarette into the flames. “'Specially not some bigot who's too afraid to leave his big bad power armour to even go an' take a leak.”

Cait was stunned into silence. She swallowed, peering into the hearty fire now burning at her feet. Finally, she decided to bite.

“... What's your game, Valentine?”

“I don't play games, doll. I just remind folks of tha' rules.”

Cait snorted, “You sure do talk a lotta shite.”

“Yeah, well,” he took another drag from his half burned down cancer stick. “Someone's gotta. Just shootin' tha breeze, sweetheart. Sometimes it's the only way we can share pain. We're all human, after all.”

_'Sweetheart now? What's with this stupid arse robot?'_

“Right,” Cait quirked a brow, still reeling at being called such endearing terminology before twisting to face the synth sitting beside her. “Rich coming from a guy with half his face lit up like a toaster. News flash for ya, but yer wires are showin'.”

If Nick was offended by her comment, he didn't show it. Instead, he finished off his cigarette before stubbing out the remains in the palm of his intact left hand, watching as some of the ash scattered to dust his battered coat. Cait felt a smug sliver of satisfaction at finally getting the man to shut up, though a part of her began to secretly miss his coarse yet oddly smooth voice. Just as she was about to try and gain a rise out of him, he spoke.

“... I was human once.”

Cait's jibe died in her throat. Just as she was about to ask if he'd taken one too many chems, (and if he'd possibly like to share them,) he continued.

“I remember before tha war.” He tilt his head back, torn fedora casting a shadow across his glowing eyes while the moonlight glimmered silver over the burnished steel of his exposed jaw. “Grass spread out over rolling hills like a sea of green. A sky so blue you could get lost in it. Tha birds singing so sweet it was like candy fer tha ears. The sun so bright and warm.... and flowers, all tha colours of tha rainbow.”

Cait was brought crashing from her verbally-induced high harder than a comedown of Psycho.

“What the hell's a rainbow?”

Nick snapped his wistful gaze from the moon to shoot her a stunned and near appalled gape, and Cait furrowed her brow in annoyance. Another shiver racked her body and she curled in tighter on herself, avoiding his eyes to grit her teeth in self-admonition.

“Whatever... it's all just some crazy bullshit talk anyway,” she mumbled, staring adamantly into the fire. A moment later, a gentle rustling at her side alerted her to Nick rising to his feet. Before she could fully register the alien disappointment that mixed with her initial feeling of relief at his departure, a soft yet heavy weight settled over her shoulders. She snapped her head back in surprise to find Nick's battered trench coat draped around her shoulders, heat already seeping through her skin from the well-worn fabric.

“If that's what you wanna believe, Cait, then believe it. But it don't change the fact that every word of it's tha truth.”

Cait continued to stare into the fire before she finally glanced up at the unexpected oddball that had graced her company for the evening. Nick had his back to her, his gaze fixed towards the fresh bout of laughter that erupted from the far end of Sanctuary. Cait recognised the two new and distinct laughs to belong to Piper and Nora. The ex-raider scrutinised the synth carefully, having never before seen him without his trademark trench coat. Just as she was beginning to somewhat admire the figure he cut in his slacks and suspenders, Nick began to walk away.

Cait hesitated.

“Hey.”

The synth stopped, a solitary eye appearing to glow over his dirtied white shirt-clad shoulder.

Cait had to resist the urge to mumble out her words.

“What other stuff can you tell me about, you know... before the world fell on its arse.”

Nick blinked. Then he smiled, a true smile that appeared to reach his optics, before he returned to the campfire and to her side.

“Well, sweetheart,” he began with a tone of velvet gravel. “I can tell ya about rainbows.”

 


End file.
